Hermione's Rival rerafted
by Marshmallows rock
Summary: Eight new Americans have joined Gryffindor third year. Hermione cannot stand Michelle, due to her talent. Her plan to stop her being perfect could perhaps work a little too well. Redraft of my very first story ever!


This is a hopefully better rework of my very first story ever, Hermione's rival. I would appreciate if you didn't read the first draft because it is awful.

I own the Americans, JKR owns everything else.

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Hermione looked over to the other end of the common room. Ever since the eight American kids had joined their house and year halfway through September, everything had changed. To Hermione, Christian, Tiffany, Toby, Brandon, Spencer, Jessica and Shira were all instantly likeable, but she couldn't say the same about the fourth girl. Michelle Sarah Montoya. Hermione hated Michelle. She was brilliant in class and had even been offered a move to fourth year. She rejected it because she didn't want to leave her friends. Aside from being brilliant in class, Michelle was a beautiful dancer, and could do modern, ballet, tap, freestyle and Highland. She was also a brilliant gymnast and often did her spectacular flips, handsprings and no handed cartwheels whenever things were boring. And she was gorgeous. Her skin was golden, her hair was dark wavy and hung down to her waist, and most girls would have killed for her figure.

On this particular night, Hermione watched as Michelle flung herself gracefully into a no handed cartwheel. Fred and George had set off their fireworks so it looked really spectacular. Hermione was really irritable. Her full timetable and her new rival kept her temple at breaking point these days.

Then she jumped as Michelle eased herself down into a chair beside Hermione.

"Hey Hermione, you coming to dance?" she asked, in her American accent.

"No thanks, I'm not really a dancer," Hermione said. Aunt Petunia would have loved the stiffness in her voice. Then she thought she should be friendly. "Whereabouts in America are you from, Michelle?"  
"We're all from Minnestosa. Me and the others are in this club thing and every summer we go camping and stuff like that, it's great fun. And you do't have to call me Michelle, you can call me Che. 'cause everybody else does"

She got up to dance some more. Hermione watched her and Ginny whirling around at the speed of light and marched into the girl's dormitories.

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"Well that's Snape out of the way for a while anyway!"  
"Served him right!"

"We'll never get another lesson as good as that one!"  
This was the babble that heralded the third years emerging from the last class on Friday afternoon, Potions. Snape had knocked Neville's bottle of sunflower oil, which was in the potion against his cauldron, and to cut a long story short, ended up being carted off to Saint Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries until further notice. The cheerful, decent and rather rotund Professor Slughorn was filling in. Despite the fact that some people's cauldron's, Harry's, Hermione's, Seamus' and Michelle's included had caught fire (although that could easily be fixed, Tiffany had a skin rash from the oil, and Ron's robe was slightly singed, everyone was fairly cheerful, even Hermione, as she chatted to Shira and Jessica on the way up the stairs. However, as Michelle came over, her mood sank like the Titanic.

"Hey guys, McGonagall said she wants to see us upstairs right now."  
"What on earth for?" Parvati Patil moaned.

"God only knows," Michelle replied. "Still she can't blame us for Snape getting carted off, can she? It was his fault!" Loud cheering greeted this.

McGonall droned on about Transfiguration homework and Potions arrangements and everybody tuned out until the words "The third years are in charge of organising a dance at the end of October."  
A slightly stunned silence greeted this proposition. More than one person groaned. Then Dean Thomas waved his hand in the air.  
"Mr Thomas?"  
"Could Michelle do her gymnastics and breakdancing and stuff?" he said enthusiastically.

Michelle looked up with a start. The entire year was looking at her.

"Uh, well, I don't really know," she began, but nobody was going to let her get away with this. They begged and pleaded until she finally agreed.

"Very well," McGonagall said, shuffling her papers. "You have three weeks.

Hermione groaned and covered her eyes. How could she stop Michelle being so perfect?  
At the moment she would have welcomed any idea.

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Next Time on "Hermione's Rival Redraft':

Michelle worries she's upset Hermione:

"_I think Hermione really hates me," Michelle said, frowning slightly. "Have I done anything to her?"  
"Nah, don't think so," Harry said. "I'll ask her"_

_Dance Preparations get underway:  
"Can you zap that blue for me, Jessica?" Ron said, as he painted a banner._

_Jessica pulled out her wand and zapped both the spot on the banner and Ron's nose blue, causing Fred and George to laugh like idiots. "Like that?"  
_

_And Hermione realises how to bring down Michelle:  
It was desperate. Even for her it was desperate. But, Hermione thought, as she stirred her cauldron, it could work.._


End file.
